looking for acceptance
by 9292010
Summary: An enormity of trust issues accumulate over time. After years of emotional abuse, Emily Prentiss is looking for a better life. A family for her and her teenage daughter, one she can call her own, depend on. Is it possible for her to ever really be saved? or is it too late? Pairing - Emily/JJ - Story is AU


Chapter 1

Internal conflict can be the most deadly of its kind. The psychological effects of harsh, degrading dialogue can leave scars too deep to ever recover from. Moving past it is possible, albeit difficult, but entirely possible, forgetting, however, will only ever remain a fantasy concocted within the dreams of those affected. And often, at times, sleeping can become a nightmare, when the monsters of your reality merge into one. When there's nobody to save you from the horror's that are repeated constantly through your mind, almost like a movie, frozen on one scene, except, with movies, you know the ending, you know there is always going to be a happy-ever-after. A prince atop a white stallion, slaying monstrous dragons with ease, all to save the princess trapped in the stonewall castle, tall enough to reach the limits of the cloudy sky, or the heroic woman who, despite everything she faces, the battles she fights, comes out the other side with nothing to show for, but the physical scars, the permanent reminders of what its like to save the world

These stories have endings. Happy endings. Hers hasn't been written yet. She's still playing out the lead up to the epic climax right at the end, the storm before the calm. The hardest scenes to write, and even more so to live, for her, life is day to day. Will she survive, if so, what about tomorrow? Or the next day. So far, this is a road she's walked alone, or, as alone as you can be with those who never stay for too long, the ones who need to feel a rush of excitement in their lives, a little bit of rebellion and when its over, they move forward and once again, she's left behind. It's like standing in a room full of people, yet feeling like you could just disappear and nobody would notice, like a cosmic mistake that needed correcting. Would anybody care? They haven't so far. Why start now?

Growing up, she'd always been the outsider, the society named "freak" wherever she went, and that named calling and humiliation was only confirmed when her parents sent her away, like a phone with a defect being traded for a knew one, only it was months before she was deemed well enough, by society's standards, to go home.

It didn't last long, she'd been home a week when they caught her 'sinning' again and like the last time, she was sent away. Only this time, she would never return. The place she was sent to wasn't like the others; it was a last resort for the confused teens of the 80's. She never completed the program, and by her 18th birthday, she'd run away, not a word spoken to those children who had surrounded her for the last two years, it was like she'd vanished, just another faceless rebel who'd become a teenage statistic. Pregnant at 17, she left for a better life, to teach her child acceptance, to show them love, or the way it's supposed to be anyway. Whilst still reserved around strangers, and even those who she could now consider, friends, on the 21st of February, 1987, everything changed with the birth of her first child, a girl, by the name of Skylar Jay Prentiss, Jay after her paternal grandfather, truly the only love she ever received that wasn't wrapped in plastic, came from him. He passed away when she was 12, and unknown to the entirety of the family, left a hefty sum of money to her, which she discovered on her 18th birthday, with a call that broke her emotionally.

The money was enough to support a family and their distant relatives for more than three generations, she was grateful for her daughter, knowing she would always have clothes on her back, food in her stomach and a roof over her head, but at the same time, extraordinary amounts of guilt and shame surfaced, brought upon by the echo's of taunts and criticism that bombarded her daily at home, at school, nothing she did was ever good enough and after a while you start believing in the words that are thrown at you, she felt undeserving. In the end, wounds will heal and scars can fade, but memories are forever, and it's always the more painful ones that remain the most vivid.

X

At 37 years old, Emily Prentiss' life had become one to be desired, on the outside, it was perfect and she had almost reached the point, where the inside felt the same. Years of conditioning to be perfect, years of bigotry and homophobia hadn't been healed, just stored away in the darkest places of her mind, compartmentalized in a sealed boxed, left to be dealt with on another day in the future. Distant future.

Her daughter, now 19, was in her first year of University. Growing up to look like a youthful Emily, Skylar was the light of her mother's eye, after 19 year together with only each other to hold onto, the connection between the two was unbreakable. Skylar was never kept in the dark about her mum's past, the knowledge of what she went through, what she had to endure, only drove Skylar's passion for justice and regrettably, fueled her hatred for her grandparents, their lack of compassion and love was a obstacle for Emily and Skylar, Emily had to learn how to show Skylar unconditional love and acceptance, while, simultaneously being a parent with reasonable boundaries for any child.

Being a single mother completely invested in changing family history, Emily wasn't left with much time for relationships, and past experiences with rejection and disgust due to her sexuality were a great decider in her physical and emotional relationships, most of which, never made it to the emotional stages. She knew that it being the 21st century, society's opinion on same-sex relationships has been evolving and it wasn't a death sentence to be out to the world, but the underlying emotional abuse has always been in the back of her head. Making it's self know at the worst of times.

Today was a new chapter in the duo's life, a promotion to the FBI's behavioral analysis Unit was the break that Emily had been waiting for, a chance for justice, maybe not for herself, her time had past long ago, but for others like her, for everyone who has experienced rejection and abuse from those made to love you, the only constants in a persons life, from parents. Hopefully, along the way, Emily will find peace, love, a family to introduce to her daughter, expand her support system to more than just one, a group of people to offer security to the pair and a feeling of stability for the first time in their lives, sure, with her money, they never had to worry about survival, but money and family are not the same, like ecstasy, money gives you a high only to painfully crash when you thrill of a new item wears of, and eventually, the money isn't enough anymore. Family, with the exception of Emily's and other broken beyond repair households, are forever, all families have their flaws, there's no such thing as the perfect family, but with undying love and support, these issues can be repaired, to formulate the identity of a good family unit.

X

Its Emily's first day, and joining a tight-nit team that's been working together for three years already, going on four, is never easy. The bonds formed within the group were evident on her first glimpse.

They must not have had any cases, not with the way they were seated around their various desks, trinkets of their family's possessions and personalities scattered around their desks. A muscle-bound black man was leaning casually on the desk of a lanky, brunette boy who didn't look any older than 24 and, opposite them, was a blonde woman with what looked like a physically noticeable personality, literally, covered in the brightest clothing, contrasted only by her black, midnight hair highlighted by a dismal blue streak tangled throughout her two pigtails. Emily hadn't met these three before, she know there was one more from the interview she had with their Unit chief SSA Aaron Hotchner and second in command, SSA David Rossi.

They'd taken her through the typical procedures and protocol, followed by a team roll call, and by the looks of it, the ones she was looking at were, Spencer Reid, child prodigy and youngest person ever to be hired to be recruited to the FBI, Derek Morgan, an unlikely employee driven to the FBI, like most, by a tragedy or heartbreak experienced earlier on in life and finally, Penelope Garcia, the part of the team, that sheds light on the darkest moment of their daily life's, of the atrocities they're faced with as a form of collateral damage because of their line of work, hired as a form of recidivism prevention, she was just one sixth of the glue that held this team together, one sixth that, hopefully, would become one seventh. The only one Emily hadn't met yet was Jennifer Jareau, media Liaison turned profiler and the last puzzle piece to this close bonded group, Emily would probably meet her later.

This is it, the beginning of the next few years of Emily's life, picking at the imaginary lint on her black pantsuit, a nervous habit picked up over the years, she smoothed her inky black hair before taking a small step forward, and another, dragging herself closer to the cluster of agents surrounding the rows of agent desks. First impressions were what counted, and Emily had spent years perfecting hers.

"Hi, I'm Emily Prentiss. It's nice to finally meet you all" and so it begun.


End file.
